


Scales Don't Work Well With Lace

by Awkward_Dragon



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cuddling, Dragons, Established Relationship, Explicit Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, Fingering, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, I mean sort of..., Interspecies Romance, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lingerie, Lube, Massage, Multi, Non-Human Genitalia, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Sex, Smut, brief refernce to child abuse, litterally blink and you miss it, someone give the dragon a hug and tell him it's going to be ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24123841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkward_Dragon/pseuds/Awkward_Dragon
Summary: Ahren doesn't quite understand exactly what Lingerie is.  Luckily Holly and Marsh are more than willing to teach him, and if that leads to some sexy times while they educate their dragon, well... That's just fine with them.
Relationships: Ahren/Holly, Holly/Marsh, Marsh/Ahren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Scales Don't Work Well With Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madrastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Aconite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825511) by [madrastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic). 



> I blame Madrastic for the existence of this entirely. I fell in love with these absolute fools of god and now this is where I am!  
> *throws up hands in exasperation*  
> Oh well, I needed to practice my smut anyways...

It started as an innocent question. That’s all it really was, just one stupid little question that landed him in the tiny little Inn bathroom trying not to have a heart attack because of a gaudy little bag that Holly had picked out for him.

Really it was his own bad luck, he reasoned. Bad luck that this town’s library had come with a more detailed section on the...carnal arts. Bad luck that he’d been with Holly and not Marsh. Bad luck that Holly had run straight to Marsh with Ahren’s accusation.

It was different. Ahren understood now. What he’d mistaken on Marsh in those first days they’d met was most certainly not lingerie. 

Just another thing to add to the bad luck. That and the fact that this town was big enough, or perhaps simply perverse enough, to have such a shop.

He looked himself over in the small musty mirror with more diligence than he usually afforded himself. It wasn’t like what they had described in his book. That was more skimpy frills and lengths of ribbon that seemed to just barely cover the essentials. It was a careful balance, but the goal there was clearly to leave the main character so naked that it would only take a second of effort (or in the case of the novel, one particularly harsh pull from our love interest) to strip them entirely. It was very different from the articles that Holly had picked out for him.

His own set was black, a far cry from the candy apple red that the book described. Though Ahren was thankful for that. The book had described red like a symbol of lust and sin, but that had always been green in his family.

Either way, he wasn’t sure how he’d feel seeing that bright red clash with his green scales. It would probably look terribly unsightly. His mother’s colors would never look good on him. But the black looked nice against his scales.

There was actual fabric too, not just ribbon and ruffles. The top piece was made out of some nearly sheer, soft material that he’d spent too much time running through his fingers already, though it felt even nicer against his scales. Aside from the singular band of satin the garment had, there were no curly ribbons, just a simple bow in the front. The hem ended just above the lacy undergarment.

His fingers play with the lace on his hips as he tries to distract himself from the way that he’d forced Marsh to explain the garment to him through the door. He hadn’t put it on wrong and though the design was not made for a lizard folk the inclusion of the hole was entirely intentional.

Ahren tried not to squirm knowing that would just force him to acknowledge how bare his underside was, along with the silky fabric of the long stockings that only ended around his mid thigh.

The dragon can’t help the way he stares at himself in the mirror. There’s not a lot of light in the tiny bathroom, but the candle's glow makes the shadows dance and the visage in the mirror looks so much more ethereal than he could ever manage on his own.

He can’t get a good look at his whole body, but that’s not really an issue when he realizes that he can get a pretty good view of the outfit if he doesn’t see his own face. The Black is dark where it's doubled over itself, the pattern of the fabric shifting with his breath. It makes it look almost like smoke, like a rising offering to the old gods. It’s really beautiful, at least it is to Ahren. Even if it has the misfortune of being displayed on his body.

The top is a flattering cut and the flowing fabric makes it easier to ignore that his body is on the skinny side… gangly, if he’s honest with himself. The stockings call more attention to his legs than he’d like, but it’s such artful wrapping that it’s hard to find his usual disgust in himself. It’s black, but it is all sheer or lace that lets much of his natural coloring through. As though his green scales are something precious that have to be covered lest they be harmed, but too alluring to sit behind opaque fabric.

_Too precious_ , what a laugh.

He understands why Holly hadn’t gone with a set more like the book. Ahren wasn’t beautiful. He’d been reminded of that enough times. But covering him up like this wasn’t having the effect he assumed the half-elf desired. His coloring is still plainly on display and though he’s dressed up, it’s still his body underneath. Ahren knows that it is wrong to feel prideful, but he can’t help but feel like a present all wrapped up for show, just waiting to be…

Ahren’s cheeks feel like they are on fire, because what he was thinking of certainly wasn’t something you were supposed to do with presents!

He bites his lip to silence the groan as he fidgets and can’t ignore the silky fabric brushing against the sensitive scales of his inner thigh and the absolute nothingness that covers his crotch.

Gods, all these new sensations ever since he’d left home, the… horniness as Marsh had put it, was driving him mad. It kept putting him into states like this in all sorts of inappropriate places. _Like the Inn’s bathroom_ , his brain unhelpfully supplied, _a bathroom where anyone could-_

“Hey, anybody in there?” a voice called as they wracked their knuckles against the door.

“J-just a minute!” The panic in Ahren’s voice turns the words into a near squeak as he dives for his own clothes.

The oversized shirt and his worn pants go on directly over the whole ensemble and Ahren has no time to examine the complex emotion that the sensation of the lingerie under his regular clothes are making him feel. He just throws the bag under his arm and opens the door doing his best to pretend that he was simply washing his hands. He keeps his head down as he all but bolts past whoever is knocking at the door and heads straight to his own room letting his body slump against the door once he’s safely on the other side.

“The hell happened to you?” 

Marsh is sitting in bed, reading from their book, while Holly’s splayed out beneath them, his hair getting played with halfheartedly with Marsh’s free hand. Not long ago he would have though that this was the picture of obscenity. Now, he had worse beneath his clothing.

“I-I…” Ahren’s voice shakes in his throat.

“Oh, did you not like what I picked out for you, Ahren?” Holly sits up much to Marsh’s displeasure.

“Hey, don’t move!” They cry as Holly shakes the book they were reading from his back.

“Well then next time use a desk and not my spine!” Holly shoots back playfully as he steps out of the bed making his way towards the dragon still pressed against the door.

“Ahren,” Holly calls, ignoring Marsh’s exaggerated protest and Ahren almost jumps out of his scales.

He can feel his mouth open and close, but no words come out of his mouth as Holly approaches. It feels oddly like he’s pinned beneath Holly’s gaze. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. Ahren figures it's the concern on his face. The genuine concern is so innocent and guileless that Ahren almost feels bad that it’s just his own failings that have him so torn up inside.

Then all at once it shifts. First to confusion, but then to obvious delight. It only takes a second for Ahren’s own mind to catch up. What a picture he must make. His clothes have been thrown on with none of his usual precision. The sloppiness of his haste is obvious in the wrinkles fabric. Then there’s that godsforsaken bag with its gaudy colors, but he’s holding it in such a tight grip that it’s plain to see the bag is empty.

Holly’s brow arches as his eyes rake over Ahren once more in an entirely new light.

“So you _did_ like it. Well, are you going to show me?” Holly asks with such obvious glee that Ahren’s not even sure the half-elf is aware of the precarious situation underneath his clothes.

Ahren can only manage a strangled “ _what?”_ in response as he considers the pros and cons of simply bolting from the room.

“Well, I picked it out, but I was just picking what I thought would look nice. I want to see if I hit the mark.” Holly answers brightly, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The most sensible reasoning ever brought before the courts of man.

But as Ahren stands still, back pressed against the door, trying to force his heart to slow so that he’s not deafened by its racing, Holly's smile grows a little more cautious.

“Unless that makes you uncomfortable.” He adds reservedly, in a tone that is so unlike Holly that it makes Ahren’s chest hurt.

“N-no, I just. I was taken off guard by your request.” he stammers, falling back into the old habit of being overly formal.

“I don’t know if I’d refer to a strip show as a request, but I mean… technically?” Holly’s brows furrow as though this is taking all of his mental capacity.

Marsh huffs, but closes their book, turning the entirety of their attention on Ahren.

“I…” Ahren starts to protest, but Marsh cuts him off.

“Well, I didn’t get to pick it out with him, and your questions left me all sorts of curious.” Marsh states dully as though this was all painfully obvious, though the glimmer in their eye suggests a more base interest.

“R-right, of course!” Ahren nods as if to agree with himself, hoping that they don’t see the blush rising high on his cheeks.

Ahren moves like a dragon possessed. He notices that he is stripping out of his clothes, but for the life of him he can’t shake the oddly detached feeling. The odd sensation of his body becoming more and more revealed.

With a start, Ahren realizes that he simply doesn’t want to show Holly how wrong he was. The fact that the set of lingerie, though beautiful, doesn’t cover Ahren’s body like he’s hoped. He finds himself fumbling with his shirt, wishing for those long sleeves again that would cover those green scales. Or perhaps for the material of the top piece to be just a fraction thicker. And then with his pants… Ahren can feel his dick hardening, slipping out of its sheath, and without proper bottoms his dick, though only half hard, is on full display.

He doesn’t acknowledge it, tries desperately not to think about it as he steps out of his pants the rest of the way. The thin stockings felt so much more revealing than if his legs had been left bare. It’s like a lure. The lingerie forces eyes upon him when he’s so used to being ignored.

But Holly doesn’t say anything about how ugly his body is, or how unfortunate that such a pretty piece was wasted on him. Marsh doesn’t criticize how skinny he is, how gangly, how malformed he is as a dragon. They don’t describe to him how he looks so short and weak.

Instead, Holly smiles.

“You know I think it looks better than I thought it would. How does it feel?” He asks, completely blowing past the compliment he’s dealt that leaves Ahren feeling lightheaded.

_How does it feel? Salacious, indecent, improper, lewd…_ There's a great many words to describe how he feels and yet none of them are correct. They are someone else's words, put into his mouth, transcribed into his mind from as long as he can remember He would have said any of those things, all those things in fact if this was someone else. Ahren never imagined that he would be the one to be wearing such things. He could see this family in his mind's eye. How they might react, how his mother might punish him for bringing an indecent image upon the house. It made him cringe, fearful, and yet... he had felt so powerful in the mirror.

“I… feel?” Ahren tries and fails to use his words, not entirely sure what answer Holly’s after. 

“Yeah, I can see it’s a little short, but you’re a tall dragon. Does it fit alright?” Holly asks, moving those last few inches forward until he is firmly in Ahren’s personal space.`

His hands go under the top. Fingers ghosting over the scales before they start prodding at where the ribbon circles his chest. They fumble for a minute until those clever fingers work their way under the band and Ahren shudders, amazed at the warmth that can come from such a skinny half-elf. The band of the top sits tighter against his chest with Holly’s hands underneath it and Ahren’s finding it hard to breathe. The scales shouldn’t be any more sensitive than anywhere else on his body, at least not from what he knows about himself, but the simple touch is making him want to squirm under Holly’s hands.

“Like here,” Holly continues as though Ahren is capable of following along in his state. The half-elf plays his fingers over the scales and Ahren can’t help but feel ashamed at the sounds he wants to make at the attention.

“What about it?” Marsh pipes up from the other side of the room.

“Well, I can fit my fingers underneath it, so it’s not too tight, but does it feel comfortable?” Holly asks.

“I… I think so.” Ahren stutters out, he has no frame of reference. For all he knows this set is terribly uncomfortable within the standards of lingerie. Thought there is one thing that’s been bothering him. “The bottoms are a little odd.” he admits sheepishly.

“Yeah Ahren, but they are supposed to be like that.” Holly grins, letting his hand brush against his rapidly hardening cock.

“N-no, the fabric catches on my scales.” Ahren tries to speak even though it feels like all the blood in his body is rushing to his face. “It’s not uncomfortable, I just… you were asking…” stumbles at the concerned look on Holly’s face as he takes a step back.

Ahren can only register that Holly’s moving away. That he doesn’t want to overlook Ahren’s failings, that the half-elf doesn’t want to touch him anymore. _What did I say? What did I do wrong?_ He screams at himself as he goes over what he’s said in his head. _I should have kept my mouth shut…_

“That’s odd…” Marsh quirks a brow, tilting their head in confusion as they wave at the both of them to come closer.

“No, I just. I don’t mean to complain, it’s no big deal.” Ahren backtracks, but Holly takes him by the hand and pulls him onto the bed.

Ahren doesn’t complain about being allowed onto bed. Holly’s paying attention to Marsh as though he’s a student about to get a lesson.

“Is this a problem with your other clothes?” Marsh asks, running their hands over the fabric of his hips, paying more than passing attention to the slight roughness of his scales as their fingers drag over the sensitive area.

“No, I just… th-the…” Ahren tries to explain, tries to work through the nearly overwhelming instinct to shy away from such intimate attention, but Marsh just continues with their assessment.

“The lace has a bunch of different textures, it’s probably aggravating a pre existing condition. I think I have something that could help with that.” they say absently, almost to themselves as they lean over the bed and begin to rifle through their bag.

“It’s really not a problem-” Ahren tries to reassure them, trying his best not to squirm away from their hands, but Marsh interrupts him again.

“Ahren, I don’t tell you how to be a diplomat, do I?” Marsh asks, though they don’t truly phrase it as a question as they fix him with an unamused frown.

“No,” the dragon answers, trying very hard not to drop his gaze below theirs.

“Then don’t tell me how to be this group’s medic.” They say it so calmly, but Ahren can tell there’s an irritation lingering under the surface.

“Y-yes,-” He stutters, barely able to cut himself off before he can follow it off with an honorific. This group doesn’t like when he’s formal.

“Look, it’s just concerning, ok?” Marsh sighs, recognizing that their tone may have left something to be desired. “Scales, aside from the patterned ridges that are unique to individuals and species, are meant to be smooth. If your scales are rough, or getting caught and irritated by fabric I have to worry that this might be an issue.”

“Marsh is keeping us all healthy, Ahren. Only they are allowed to kill us, right Marsh?” Holly chimes in, flashing that charming quirked smile of his that could end wars as he plays mediator between the two. 

“Only when you keep undoing my work do I feel tempted.” Marsh continues without even sparing Holly a glance as they continue to examine the extent of the rough scales across Ahren’s body.

The vial that Marsh produces is odd. Whatever’s inside is entirely clear, but as they tip the contents out into their hand, Ahren can see it’s far too viscous to be water.

“Why don’t you lay down, Ahren?” They suggest as they measure out a sizable amount in their palm.

Ahren nods as he settles down on his stomach, trying to ignore the way the bed sheets feel against the soft fabric and lace of his lingerie, trying not to rut into the bed like some kind of animal. He shouldn’t be this pathetic, but this is reminding him of when Marsh had fixed his back. If it could be anything as wonderful as that, Ahren is entirely ok with that odd goop being applied to his body.

“Can I help?” Holly asks, offering his hand for a dollop of the ointment.

“Yeah, there’s nothing special about how you need to apply it. How about you do his hips? That’s the area that seems to be bothering him the most. I’ll get his wings and back.” Marsh acquiesces, nodding along with their own breakdown of Ahren’s body.

“That’s probably for the best, I wouldn’t know what to do with the wings…” Holly chuckles as he receives his portion of ointment.

Ahren tries not to startle too badly at the hands on his body. The cool temperature of the ointment,surprising him at first, almost as much as the care of the hands applying it. There’s an odd stinging that comes as the ointment is applied to the scales. Something disquieting as Holly and Marsh start working it into his scales.

Marsh works his back like a master physician, massaging the sore muscles underneath just as much as they treat the scales on the surface. He trills and moans happily under their hands, hoping that it conveys, even in small part, just how good this is making him feel. They treat his wings with the utmost care and an expertise that Ahren still doesn’t understand. Marsh doesn’t have wings, and dragon wings are a largely different thing in and of themselves, but that doesn’t seem to stop Marsh from having a complete understanding of his biology. Knowledge of his pressure points and the areas that are more likely to carry the stress of the weight he forces them to take.

Holly on the other hand, goes for an entirely different approach. Though Ahren had said that the lace had been bothering his hips, he hadn’t been expecting the half-elf to go directly to the source of the problem. Holly’s hands on his hips startle Ahren in a way that he hadn’t been expecting. Even more so when Holly seems to decide that applying this ointment doesn’t require the removal of his crotchless lace underwear. Holly’s deft fingers shift the lace, pulling it away and replacing it once he’s finished working the ointment into a section of the scales. 

It’s maddening, the half-elf is making it impossible to forget that he’s wearing such a lewd outfit, not that he needs much help with that. His dick is almost painfully hard, but pinned as it is between him and the bed, he doesn’t have a lot of options. Ahren settles for canting his hips the fraction that he can at his terrible angle. It’s all he’s got, but he is confident that the motion doesn’t disturb either of them.

But when Holly starts to pull down his stockings, Ahren has to smother his moan in the bed sheets. The stockings bunch together and rub so sinfully uncomfortable against his thighs. The damn sheer garments only highlighting how naked his legs are. But that doesn’t discourage the half-elf, no. Holly is making sure to do a thorough job, parting his legs even more so that he can get this ointment absolutely anywhere it might be useful. And if that means paying a little extra attention to Ahren’s inner thighs then, well that’s the price to be paid isn’t it? Even if he has to use those clever fingers to rub circles into the sensitive scales. 

The damn half-elf is trying to kill him, this time he’s sure of it.

Ahren’s mind feels like it’s full of fluff, dazed by all the warmth of the two bodies bracketing him. He’s never had this level of attention, this level of care paid to him before, and he isn’t sure what to do with it.

Not that it’s unpleasant. The scenario, though unfamiliar and a bit frightening at first is quite nice. Especially once the ointment starts to warm as it’s worked into his scales. Any pain that might have come with the application of the ointment fades as the gel warms with the help of the hands that spread it.

He can’t help but squirm, even when Marsh batts at one of his horn nubs to get him to stop. There’s a chorus of chirpy little moans coming out of him that they seem to find unbearably adorable.

“Are you getting off on this?” Marsh asks though it’s not a question. There’s an unmistakable fondness in their voice.

For once Ahren actually gets it.

“I am clearly, clearly still on the bed, Marsh.” he responds, nuzzling himself to a more comfortable position in their lap.

When they laugh it’s like the sun, and Ahren could bask in their rays forever.

“Hey, Marshmallow?” Holly asks, drawing Marsh’s attention.

“Yeah?” They respond, petting at Ahren’s horn nubs in a way that makes him want to trill and purr for them.

“Is this stuff safe for internal use?” Holly asks, and Ahren can only assume he’s holding up the vial.

“I mean, yes, it’s a water based hydroxyethyl cellulose, it’s completely non-toxic.” Marsh responded in the typical fashion. Medically accurate but nothing that makes sense to Ahren. It barely makes sense to him when they use normal words.

Ahren jerks as Holly’s hands stray from his hips as the dragon is suddenly reminded of the fact that his lacy bottoms do not have the coverage he is used to. All he can do is bury his head in Marsh’s thigh as he bites back a moan.

“Oh, that feels good? You want me to keep going?” Holly taunts, running a finger over the entrance to the dragon’s egg channel again with deliberate slowness.

Ahren hates the needy wail the movement causes as his hips jerk backwards of their own accord to chase the stimulation. Holly didn’t allow Ahren to impale himself on the half-elf’s finger, but when his hips stilled Holly returned to making sure the area had a thorough application of the ointment. Ahren whined and bucked, but only after Holly was satisfied did he allow his fingers to sink into the dragon.

Holly’s fingers feel so hot inside Ahren he can barely stand it. He knows intellectually that dragons have a consistently lower body temperature than half-elves, but somewhere in the back of his mind Ahren really thinks it’s about time they revisit the legends about the half-elven sex fiends.

“I-I… Yes, that feels good, but y-you do know that I do produce my own natural slick, right?” Ahren asks trying to speak normally though he has two fingers buried to the second knuckle in his egg channel.

It’s impossible that Holly doesn’t know. Aside from the fact that he’s already taken advantage of this fact, Ahren knows how aroused he is. There is little doubt in his mind that he wasn’t already dripping with slick.

“Look, there’s no such thing as too much lube, ok?” Holly answers casually as though he isn’t plunging two of his fingers in and out of someone at the moment.

Ahren can only pant and moan as the fingers work their way deeper, stretching his body to accommodate the half-elf. He shudders as the fingers twist inside him. The inner walls of his egg channel are so much more sensitive than he’d ever thought. Ahren feels his eyes unfocus at the pleasure as Marsh goes a little blurry at the edges in front of him.

“Besides, you like the feel of this right?” Holly prods, removing his fingers entirely only to make Ahren whine at the loss before he begins again.

“I-It is nice.” Ahren stutters, pulling together a coherent sentence seems impossible right now, for the life of him the dragon can’t remember how he’d ever done it.

“Well, how about we try a little bit of a better angle, hmm?” Holly asks aloud, but he doesn’t seem to require a response.

Ahren doesn’t have the capacity to understand what he means by that, but luckily Holly doesn’t seem to require his help.

The half-elf pulls hips up, settling the dragon on his knees while his shoulders remain on the bed. The position settled him even further in between Marshes thighs. Holly has the decency to wait until the dragon has somewhat settled himself before he begins prodding at the dragon’s inner thighs, seeming to enjoy the little squeaks and warbles that it causes as he ensures that Ahren’s legs are parted enough for him to work. 

Ahren’s panting now, trying to ignore the heat building in his body. Marsh’s hands had stopped where they were on his back, perhaps giving him time to get adjusted in his new position, and Ahren can’t help but be grateful for the consideration. He’s kissing at the inside of their thighs before he even recognises that he’s doing it. Marsh is only in those loose fitting fabric underclothes that they favor for sleep, but Ahren can’t help but feel that they are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Their bronze skin nearly shines in the almost red light cast by the lantern. It casts all sorts of shadows, and makes them glow. Their entire being is one of functionality. Their clothes are worn, but strong and Ahren can’t help but see the same in the humanish themself. The dragon doesn’t know exactly what they’ve been through. He doubts he’ll ever be told the full story, but he knows surely enough that finery and uselessness are not things that Marsh tolerates.. The linen shirt that hung low and exposed their collarbone is frayed at the edges, but comfortable in a way that only a thousand washes can provide. The shorts are mismatched, stained with a cleaning agent, but fit so snugly on their hips and provide such comfort that they are not something he’d ever wish to see Marsh go without. 

He wouldn’t call them elegant. Marsh, nor the clothes. Nobody ever would, but they were perfect.

Holly’s clever fingers brush against that wonderful place inside him and his whole body jerks as he moans and trills as Holly sees fit to add another finger to open him up just a tad wider. Ahren whimpers at the pressure, but it’s certainly not more than he can take.

“M-may I kiss you?” he asks bashfully, looking up at Marsh with the best pleading expression he can conjure. 

“Get over here you idiot.” is the only response as Marsh lifts his head to theirs, leaving the issue of getting him to support his own weight with his arms to him.

Captured by the intensity of Marh’s kiss, Ahren can only hold on. Marsh’s lips are oddly soft for how harshly they seem to be using them. Ahren lets them lead, too swept up in the sensations around him to worry about how loudly he’s moaning, or the playful clicking that slips out when Marsh slides their tongue into Ahren’s mouth. Ahren for his part isn’t familiar with this custom, but he’s more than willing to learn as Marsh coaches him through how to use his tongue, and for a moment it’s distracting enough to forget about the things Holly is doing.

Naturally, Holly takes exception to that.

Ahren jerks away from Marsh, trilling madly as he tries to get himself back under control. Holly’s gone back to that wonderful little place inside him, rubbing circles over the node in his insides that have him quivering like a mess. It’s overwhelming and when he tries to move his hips, Holly’s hands are there, guiding him back into place with maddening patience. 

_It’s like he’s not even aware of what he’s doing,_ Ahren nearly yells in his mind. Holly directs his hips back to where they were, like he’s correcting his posture, not driving him mad with those talented fingers. 

Before he has a chance to say something, to think, Holly’s back at it and all Ahren can do is moan and whine pathetically in Marsh’s direction

“You know,” Marsh drawls, lips tilted upward in a half smile as they cup Ahren’s face. Ahren is so damn grateful for the pleasantly cool cream still lingering on their hands that he nearly whines in relief. 

“You’ve got a very nice tongue Ahren, would you mind me putting it to use?” They ask, the lilting tone so playful that Ahren has to resist the urge to grin as he bites his lip and nods his head.

Marsh pulls down their loose linen shorts, stripping out of them and Ahren can’t help the way his mouth goes dry. He’s never done this before, he should be nervous, but he trusts Marsh. Marsh would tell him if something was wrong. They’d help him fix it, they are very good at fixing things.

Ahren nuzzles into their thighs, settling into the space as he makes as Marsh spreads their legs wider at his gentle prodding.

Ahren can see Marsh’s wetness, can smell the intoxicating scent of their arousal. There is a thrum of pride that runs through him at the thought that he had been the cause of that. He lets himself kiss along the inside of their thigh alternating left and right before Marsh pulls him back, nails raking at the base of his horn as they direct his head. Ahren trills, deep in his throat and completely out of his conscious control at the harsh direction.

It brings him back to his original problem, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Ahren gives Marsh a tentative lick, just the barest brush of his tongue against their vulva. Even though Marsh gives a jerk at the touch, he can tell he’s not doing it right. He tries again, fully utilizing his long tongue and applying as much pressure as he dares this time.

He’s rewarded with a much more satisfied grunt and Marsh’s hand on his head. The lips of their vulva spreading slightly at the pressure his tongue exerts rewarding him with a taste of the slick that had first caught his eye. It’s more difficult than he thought, keeping his trilling and moaning separate from the act he’s engaging in with Marsh. They don’t complain though, in fact the trilling seems to have a pleasant effect. He continues at what he hopes is a comfortable pace, alternating between longer slower licks and the more intricate delving that allows him to taste Marsh’s arousal, until they pull him up from the position he’s claimed between their legs.

His first thought is that he’s in trouble. He’s done something wrong and now Marsh is upset. But Marsh’s face looks anything but upset. There’s a pleasant blush high on their cheeks and sweat on their brow as they pant, a dazed almost pleased look in their eyes.

“Is that good?” he can’t help the warble in his voice as he asks.

“Mmm, that’s good, you’re doing really good Ahren, try right here-” they pant using two fingers to push their folds apart and highlight exactly where their clit is.

Ahren acquiesced, approaching a little slower, but with no less intensity, licking a long stripe along their clit, again and again.

The pressure and heat of Ahren’s tongue make Marsh squirm as they direct again.

“t-try circles,” they say, moaning as Ahren seemed to get the idea, eating them out with a professionalism that only the dragon could manage.

A shudder ran through the dragon and though it didn’t break Ahren’s diligence it took Marsh a second to realize that Holly had wrapped his hand around the dragon’s dick.

“You ready for me Ahren?” Holly asked, voice tinted with innocence as though he could talk his way out of the mess he was making of Ahren just by batting those pretty blue eyes.

Ahren responded with a moan that might have been words if he stopped his meticulous attention to Marsh, but as it was he settled for those garbled moans and wiggling his hips as much as he could manage.

Holly did a good job stretching Ahren. He would never be so sloppy that he hurt a lover, but as he sank into the dragon he took a second to appreciate the way the egg channel yielded to the pressure of his cock. Ahren was hot and tight around his cock as Holly’s hips touched Ahren’s ass. 

The dragon was usually so tense, Holly can’t help but think it’s nice to have him so boneless underneath him. Maybe that’s something Marsh should prescribe. _Every time you get too tense, you need to bottom out on one half-elven cock_. Holly smiled at the thought, letting Ahren adjust before he started thrusting into him.

Marsh growled low in their throat as they ground out their orgasm on Ahren’s tongue. The result left Ahren looking so misty eyes and debauched with so much slick and spit making a mess of his mouth as he tried to just swallow that Marsh couldn’t resist just a little more torment.

They pull Ahren up for a kiss, enjoying the shakiness of his limbs far too much. The faraway look that has him trilling and nuzzling into them like he’s lost. His pupils are wide as they deepen the kiss, tasting themselves on his tongue. 

They move closer and that forces Ahren to back up, forces him to sit further up and when the advance doesn’t stop until his back meets Holly’s chest he’s forced to reflect on what the new angle is doing to him.

Holly peppers the back of his neck with kisses, whispers words of praise and encouragement, but all Ahren can think about is the intensity of this new angle. How much deeper it feels like Holly is going, how much easier it is for Holly’s dick to graze that nice spot inside of him.

Holly eventually bores with the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss that forces Ahren to twist, the odd angel doing nothing to dampen the passion of the moment. Marsh for their part isn’t too put out by the turn of events. They just run their hand over Ahren’s straining erection, mildly amused by the whimper and jerk of hips that it causes before their hand grabs his dick in earnest. 

Marsh starts slowly, wrapping their hand around Ahren’s shaft and increasing the pressure and swiping their thumb over the slit at the top of Ahren’s dick in a move that never fails. Ahren cums rather quickly, though it’s no surprise to Marsh and with only a few more thrusts Holly follows, cumming with a scream as his muscles tense, the two of them collapsing into a pile that Marsh is quick to join.

As they all lay there catching their breath, Ahren can’t help but think that maybe scales do work well with lace... 


End file.
